CARVER- A New character with a new place in Gotham
by Arkham Crusader
Summary: After murdering a classmate, a troubled teen is all alone on the mean streets of Gotham City...That is, until he crosses paths with The Joker and his demented henchwoman, Harley Quinn. Joining Joker's crew, he knows his place...But when Joker sends him on a crazy quest, with only his trusty knife and his sharp mind to rely on, it becomes clear just how horrifying Gotham can be...


_**CARVER**_ by Jacob Shada

 _ **CHAPTER 1:THE WANTED AND UNWANTED**_

Gotham City. There was something about it that made Gavin Naitals feel right at home. What was it though? The idea that the city was ruled by corrupt cops? The fact that psychopaths were the city's rulers? It felt like only yesterday that Gavin held his first knife. But if that was yesterday, he committed his first murder only minutes ago. Now, as he hid underneath a bridge, he reflected. What else could he do now that he was wanted for murder? But the thought of the blood that ran down the tip of his blade seemed to drown out any memory he could possibly have of his past. As if Gavin Naitals had died yesterday, and was reborn as someone entirely new. Someone who regretted nothing. Someone who would become the bane of Gotham. Someone who would join the war against the Bat.

Gavin looked at his reflection through the shards of broken glass that surrounded him. He saw the image of a free man. Someone who would now shape his own destiny, instead of having his overprotective parents guide him through a preset walk cycle until he finally reached the end. Now, only time was against him. It wouldn't be long before the GCPD started searching every nook and corner for him. Surely they had other things to attend to, though. Such as the fact that Two-Face just detonated all but 3 banks in Gotham City, and with the Master of Duality, Gavin knew that 1 of those 3 was about to go up in flames. He knew exactly which one, too. The Harvey Dent Memorial Bank. Gavin slapped himself across the face. He was 17. A 17 year old wanted for murder, and no place to go. There was only one thing he could do now. Die.

He sighed and began walking to the Harvey Dent Memorial Bank. He ducked and dodged past every headlight, every streetlight that could possibly give away his position. Finally, he arrived at the back entrance of the bank. Guards? At the rear entrance? No matter. Nothing matters.

Gavin stormed forward and lowered his tone. "Let me in." He growled. "Nobody uses the rear, ya slug. Beat it." The first guard scolded. Gavin drew his knife and held it in plain view. The guards drew their guns. "Drop the knife, kid." The second guard ordered. Gavin kicked one of the guns away from a guard. It was instinctive! He then bashed him in the throat and ducked just in time to dodge a bullet flying from the pistol of the other nearby guard. Gavin jumped into the air and grabbed hold of a gutter that hung down from the roof. He swung on it like a vine, then jumped! He back-flipped through the air and kicked the guard in the chest as he dismounted with both feet.

Gavin turned his back to the guard, and attempted to enter the door. Locked? Why have guards here if the door was locked anyway? Suddenly, the guard he thought he had subdued with the chest-kick took hold of Gavin's throat from behind and held a gun to his head. "Wanna let me in on what you're doin here?" Gavin was frightened. He quickly drew his knife and broke free from the guard's grasp. He rolled forward, and when he came up, he tossed his knife into the guard's abdomen. Gavin gaped at his work. 2. 2 people had now fallen victim to Gavin's blade. 1 murder, Gavin thought may have been redeemable…but 2? This was it. Gavin was officially rogue. No turning back. No regrets.

Gavin broke the window and crawled through.

When he got inside, he took a look around, in the remote chance that he'd be able to locate Two-Face's bomb. NO! Why? He knew he couldn't diffuse it! Why bother? He wasn't Batman! No…Far from Batman….

Gavin looked at the security monitor, and saw a strange group storm into the front door. Like….Clowns? It's him! The Joker! Gavin sprinted out of the monitor room and ran his head into a gun, held by a blonde headed woman with red and black highlights on the edges. "Woah! Slow down sweety!" The woman said. And Gavin knew who she was almost instantly. "You're-You're Harley Quinn…right?" He stammered. "The one and only!" "You're hot." Gavin said with a gasp in his voice. "Gee, and I thought B-Man was the World's Greatest Detective! Sorry! But I'm spoken for. Now get on the ground before a bullet speaks for ya brain! Okay?" Harley said with a bubbly, yet threatening tone. Gavin did as told and kneeled down. "Good boy! Now, if you'll excuse mwah, I think Mistah J could use my help in loading the truck with this loot! Bye bye!" Quinn said before she cartwheeled out of sight. Gavin watched her with a twinkle in his eye.

Suddenly, Gavin had a gun to his head, and a strange voice whispering in his ear. "Are you eyeballing my girl?" The voice said in an irritated tone.

 _ **CHAPTER 2: BANK HEIST BLAST**_

"No, sir." Gavin responded. He knew who was speaking now, and he wasn't afraid. "Sir? No! Just call me Joker. We're all friends here! A lovely chaotic family! Hehehehahahahaha!" Joker laughed. Gavin noticed a guard behind Joker with a gun, getting ready to fire. The guard winked at Gavin. Obviously, he hadn't heard about what happened out back. The little brawl.

Gavin kicked Joker's feet out from under him, causing him to fall, and the guard to miss his shot. Gavin sprung up and disarmed the guard, then dealt him a heel kick to the face. Joker watched with great interest as Gavin rolled across the floor and stabbed the next guard. Harley rushed to Joker's side and helped him get away from the police's roaring gunfire. "Puddin! Are you okay?!" She asked worriedly. Joker couldn't draw his attention away from the combat. "Mistah J!" "Yes, my dear. I'm fine. Well, better get a move on. Can't afford to run into the Batman now. Not when everything is going so well." Joker opened the door of the truck they had driven into the bank. Harley stepped on the peddle and peeled out. Gavin started dashing behind the truck and jumped. He plunged his bloody blade into the back and opened part of the back. Gavin crawled inside and closed the hole he had created. Now, there was the wait. And the question. What would Joker do? Kill him? Probably. Let him join? Doubtful. But even with this, he knew Joker was unpredictable. He had studied enough of Batman's public cases to know at least that. But the way Gavin saw it, Joker owed him.

Gavin flipped his knife up and down, trying not to catch it by the blade. He had enough slits on his hand, but someday he would be an expert at it. He noticed a bullet wound in his rib cage. Gavin held his knife near the open wound. Was he really about to-? Yes.

He slowly lowered his blade in, and twisted it about, wincing and grunting in pain. If he could just dig a tad bit deeper…"ARGH!" The bullet fell out of the hole, and Gavin withdrew the knife…But he was losing blood quickly.

The truck stopped, and Quinn opened the back door, and her eyes locked with Gavin's. The light in his eyes quickly faded, and he fell out of the truck to Harley's feet. "Uh, Mistah J?" She said. Joker started walking to Harley. "What's the hold up, you ditz! I need this money unloaded pronto!" Joker said. "We…have a guest." Harley said, kicking the fallen Gavin.

 _ **CHAPTER 3: BOMB THREAT**_

Hours passed, and Gavin awoke, tied down. "Wakey wakey, Gavin." Harley Quinn said as she shook him awake. "What…? Where am I….?" Gavin said hazily. There was a burning smell in the air. "OOOH! Our friend has awoken from his little nappy!" Joker said as he entered the room. "Now, let's not waste time! If you'll notice the bomb that Harley has strapped to your chest…" "I see it." Gavin confirmed, somewhat shaky. "Good. Now, by the looks of it, you have….I'd say 2 minutes to tell me just what the hell you're doing here, why the hell you're blood has turned my money red, and why the hell you helped me at the bank, before this bomb BLOWS YOU TO HELL! Okay?" Joker laughed. "OOPS! 1 minute!" Joker laughed again. "I-" Gavin started. "50 seconds! Spit it out, man!" "Listen-" Gavin started again. "Tick, tock! Tick, tock! Tick, tock!" Harley Quinn said as she watched the timer. "Joker!" "10!" "I need-" "9!" "Shut-" "8!" I can't-" "7!" "I-" "6!" "You need-" "5!" "Dammit!" "4!" "I'm dead." "3!" "You can't-" "2!" "You Son of a-!" "1!" Joker and Harley Quinn covered their ears….No detonation? Suddenly, the capsule on the bomb opened, and confetti and streamers….Gavin banged his head against the table he was tied to….Why didn't he see this coming?!

Gavin relaxed his heart beat. "So, how about those answers?" Joker said, finally recovering from his hysterical laughter. He untied Gavin. Gavin now knew what it meant to look into the eyes of the devil. A laughing….Devil…."Are you sure you wouldn't like to strap a real bomb to my chest? Tie me to a 50 megaton warhead? Launch me into space, maybe?" Gavin said with a smug look on his face. Joker's smile vanished from his lips. "I'll make the jokes around here! Got it?!" Joker said as his onion breath misted into Gavin's nose. "Jokes? What jokes?! I'm not afraid of you, clown." "Hey! Nobody talks to my puddin in that tone! Naughty, Naughty!" Harley said as she put a revolver to Gavin's head. The demented smirk returned to The Joker's face. He began to laugh. "Stand down, my dear…I have a better idea." Whatever Joker meant by that, Gavin knew this didn't bode well… "Oh, Mistah J! You're so mysterious! I love it!" Harley dropped the revolver and ran to Joker, and began kissing him over and over. Joker knocked her to the ground, and Gavin sprung to pick up the dropped gun.

He pointed it at Joker. "Give me 3 good reasons not to blow your brains out RIGHT NOW!" Joker snapped his fingers, and Joker's 3 elite men drew the assault rifles from their backs. "So, a stand-off it is? I love this game! So, are these 3 good enough for you?" Joker jested. "Allow me to rephrase. Something that would change my mind about doing Gotham City a huge favor. Not even you can misunderstand that." Gavin scowled. "Let's see, number 1. You've never used a gun in your entire life. I accessed your public files. Number 2. You prefer to use knives…and that's where number 3 comes in….HAAAAHAHAAHAHAHA!" "Talk!" Gavin demanded as he put his finger on the trigger. "I could use somebody like you in my forces…." Joker started. "Why the hell would I hold a gun at you and then work for you?!"

"From what I've gathered of your little situation, you don't have much of a choice! HAHA!" Joker teased. Gavin hesitated, then lowered the gun. "Good boy. I've even got a nickname all figured out!" Joker laughed as he motioned for his guards to stand down. "I'm listening." Gavin said. "How about…'Carver'?" Joker suggested with a grin. Gavin looked at his blood-covered knife. Yes….Carver.

 _ **CHAPTER 4: BATMAN**_

Joker offered a handshake, and Carver pulled away. "No thanks. Last time I got joy buzzed, I woke up in an alley. I don't want that again." Joker was surprised, then released a toothy grin. "You're a smart one! That's a rare occurrence for members of MY gang. HAHA!" Harley Quinn and Carver locked eyes. Joker knew there was tension between the two of them. "So, what's my first mission?" Carver asked. "Eager! I like it! Listen, I need you to get something for me. My old friend, The Riddler has it. You need to get it back! Everything is at risk! You need to get to Riddler before the Bat does." Joker briefed. "Get it back? Is it going to be that easy?" Carver asked dubiously. He had heard about Riddler, but never seen him. Carver didn't know what to make of it. Was he a genius or simply insane? Well, Carver had his fair share of insanity over the past few days. What was a little more? "Of course not! Knowing Ol' Eddie boy he has some sort of crazy gadgetry lined up." Joker told him. Great, Carver thought. "So basically, my first mission is a suicide mission?" Carver asked as he glared at Harley, who was smirking and polishing her hammer. "Oh, no. Not a suicide mission…Think of it as a…test, maybe…You know, an initiation! Besides. Riddler likes tests, so either way you're gonna be tested! HAHAHA!" Joker laughed as he counted his new blood-covered money. Already Carver's patience was running thin.

"So, what is this item of yours?" With that, Batman busted through the window of Joker's hideout. Harley rose to her feet with her mallet, and charged at the Batman. Carver drew his knife, and froze in his tracks. He stared into the masked eyes of The Dark Knight himself…Carver couldn't believe it…The Batman was here…But no time to be awestruck right now. He had a mission to accomplish.

Batman tossed Harley aside, then KO'd some of the thugs. He then glared over at Carver. "You there. You're new around here, so I'll give you the chance to leave now and never come back here." Batman offered. Had the Bat known about Carver's murder charges, he probably wouldn't have made that proposition. Carver stood still. "No way, Bats. I'm just getting started." Batman narrowed the eyes of his cowl. "Last chance." Carver's eyes widened. He saw an opportunity.

Carver walked in Batman's direction, as it was near the door.

Suddenly, Carver dashed at Batman, dove to the ground and rolled between Batman's legs, then emerged behind him. He made a cross elbow strike to the back of Batman's neck. The Dark Knight fell to his hands and knees, then Carver grabbed the Batman's taser from his utility belt and have him a quick, yet sharp jolt of 1000 volts in the back. Carver raised his knife and started to plunge it down at Batman...But no. Too quick...Too easy...

Instead, Carver grabbed an SD card that was in a pocket on The Batman's belt. Whatever juicy secrets The Bat had on this baby, it would probably make him some money within the criminal underworld.

Harley Quinn snuck up behind Batman and knocked him out. She let out a huge smile of achievement. Carver rolled his eyes as Quinn forced a high-five out of him. Didn't she know that Carver had done most of the work, if not all of it?

"Good work, Harley Girl! I may keep you around after all!" Joker congratulated. "Aw, thanks Puddin'. It was so fun to-Wait...WHAT DO YOU MEAN, "KEEP ME AROUND AFTER ALL"?! Were you...considering...getting rid of me?" Quinn yelled. Carver watched them bicker in annoyance. "If we're quite done here, I have a little something for ya, Joker." Carver said, practicing his street thug voice.

"OOOH! A present? For me?" Joker asked with excitement, like a child on his birthday. "Yes. But I'll need a computer first." Carver said with a smirk on his face. "Harley, hook our bestie out!" Joker commanded, pointing to a hallway. "Sure thing, Mista J!" Harley agreed with a mock salute. Carver didn't know how long he could tolerate Quinn's cartoony demeanour.

The pair of them started walking, and Harley wrapped her arm around Carver, imitating the signal of "Best Friends Forever". "Alright, you...Listen up...That's my Puddin'...MINE! Don't you dare try to take him from me...He's MINE!" Quinn scolded, explaining the sudden feeling of tension between them. Carver pushed Harley's arm off of him. "You can have him, Quinn. I'm not homosexual." Carver growled. For some reason, Harley wasn't quite as attractive now. "Just makin' sure..." Quinn said as they arrived to a small room.

Carver and Harley entered and Carver sat down in front of the computer. He inserted the SD card into the system's drive. Quinn watched as Carver began the data scanning process. "Woah. 76 GB of data here...nice!" Carver said. His pupils reflected what was on the computer screen. "That's good!...Right?" Harley asked. It was obvious to Carver that Quinn knew nothing about this. "It would be good...if the Bat hadn't encrypted all 76 GB...Whatever this is, it must be important." Carver said in a calculating tone. "Tell Joker that I'm busy decrypting the data on the card, and to keep the Bat away from me while I do." Carver ordered. It was odd...Carver felt a strange aura in the air. Fear. Was Harley afraid? Of Carver? Hm. Maybe she wasn't as dumb as she looked and acted.

Harley delivered the message to Joker. "So, We've got a cyber genius on our hands my dear?" "I guess so, Mistah J. What do we do with Bats?" Harley asked with a cartoony grin. "Hm. Good question!" Joker said. The Clown Prince turned his attention to Batman, who was reaching for a Batarang. "Sorry, B-Man! We ain't playin with your toys right now!" Harley laughed as she kicked the Batarang away from him, then dealt him a spinning heel kick to the head.

"Naughty Naughty, Bats! So, any suggestions?" Joker asked with a giggle in his voice. "Kill me." Batman growled. It was obvious to Joker that he wasn't having a good time. "Oh dear, Bats...You ever hear of the Suicide Hotline? A lovely organization. I just love to spend my down time prank calling them using different voices! I love to imitate Mr. Zsasz and describe the endless cutting! HAHAHAHA! But you see, I don't want to get rid of you just yet. It just wouldn't be any fun! I just need to get you away for a little while...Harley, what are my options?" Joker said, pretending to dial up the Suicide Hotline. "Well, Mistah J," Harley imitated the tone of a New Yorker salesman. "For just $29.99, you can send our old friend slamming through a brick wall at 100 MPH! Or, for premium results, spring for the springboard for $45.26! But my personal favorite..." Harley pulled back a curtain, revealing a large rocket. "New and improved Mr. Boom Boom 2.0!" "And how much would I pay for that, Harley Girl?" Joker laughed as he tickled her chin. "I dunno...Maybe you could take a ride on that Harley of yours...?" Quinn suggested seductively. Batman prayed that they wouldn't do that in the open. He'd prepared for many things, but witnessing 2 clowns having sex wasn't one of them.

Joker then realized what Harley was implying, screamed and pushed her away. "Never mind! Just prepare Mr. Boom Boom!" He commanded angrily.

Harley spun around, and jumped back, as Carver was standing right behind her. Joker laughed. "HAHA! The look on her face! HAHAHA!" Carver's head began to ring with the echo of Joker's laughter. Harley mumbled something and got to work.

Once the rocket was completed, it was time to strap Batman in. The Joker and Harley tried to restrain the Bat, but he kicked Harley away. Carver's first instinct would be to go and help her up, but no. No...he wasn't that guy anymore. Instead, he ran to help Joker get Batman under control. Carver knew that the Batman was stronger than he was. After all, Carver was only 5 FT 11. But regardless, he had to be taken care of.

 _ **CHAPTER 5: THE MURDERER'S MIRAGE**_

Once Batman was strapped to the rocket, Harley lit the fuse to launch. The Dark Knight locked eyes with Carver. He saw pure hatred. A vengeful soul. "Get away from The Joker." Batman pleaded. "The only one getting away from anybody is YOU!" Joker laughed. "Bye bye, Bats!" Harley said as she waved goodbye.

The bottom of the rocket lit up in flames, as it shot up and crashed through the roof. The Joker and Harley Quinn broke out in hysterical laughter. Carver looked at the hole in the roof, and the blood Batman had left behind, and he just couldn't fight it...Carver chuckled...it increased into a giggle, then into a snicker, then into a laugh! For the first time in what felt like ages, Carver laughed! His laughter rivaled that of the Joker's...The room filled with laughter, chaos, and utter insanity.

"So, what have you found on the SD card?" Joker asked after the laughter cleared up. "Not much. Only the location of The Riddler's hideout." Carver said with an evil smirk. "Excellent! Well, you best get going. Batman will be back, I'm sure." Joker ushered Carver out the door. "Joker?" Carver asked before he left. "Yeeeeees?" "Permission to kill The Riddler?" "Nope nope nope. He's gonna play a part in my plan. He just doesn't know it yet." Joker explained as he showed Carver to the door.

Carver took a look around the area. Memorized the distinctive features of the building. The face of a clown painted on the side of it...No wonder Batman found them. But other than that, between the Gotham Subway Station and the stairs to go up to the Iceberg Lounge. Carver thought it best to move below the radar. He ducked beside a bench, just barely avoiding what looked like a flashlight. Carver peeked up from behind his cover...5 gunmen...guarding the Iceberg Lounge? He wondered why such security was needed for a nightclub. Unless...There was something else? Carver made sure he still had his knife with him. As long as he had it, he thought, he would not falter. Carver laid low, determined a movement pattern.

It would be almost impossible to be stealthy enough to take them all out without detection. All Carver needed was 1 of them to turn around, and give him an opening.

Soon enough, one of them came around, but didn't notice Carver. The black really helped him remain undetected. Carver, still crouched, walked up behind him. He rose to his feet and stabbed the guard in the top of the back. The guard fell, dead, but before he could hit the ground, Carver's arms rushed to break his fall. He dragged the guard behind a wall and removed his bulletproof vest, then strapped it on himself. This should make things a little easier. Carver wasn't afraid anymore. "Hey, has anybody heard from Charlie? I can't get ahold of him." Carver took the communicator from Charlie and tried his luck. He lowered the pitch of his voice and let out a cough, as he had heard Charlie do before his death. "I'm fine. Why does the Lounge need so much security anyway?" He said into the comm link. "Can't you remember anything?" One of the men returned. Well, at least the voice disguise worked. Thank God.

"Yeah, sorry. I've had a bit going on lately." Carver said, speaking his mind as "Charlie". "Yeah, I can imagine. With your wife being killed and all..." Another thug said. Carver decided he would go all out for this. "Don't mention her!" He snapped. "Sorry man, sorry! But listen, Penguin wants us to secure this place. Something about meeting up with somebody called uh..." The first guy said. "Spit it out!" Carver demanded. "Somebody called 'The Riddler'?" The thug continued. Perfect...

"Hey, I think I saw somebody crouching near the bench. I'm moving to investigate." One of them said. "Charlie, it's at your post! Where are you?"

Dammit, Carver thought. What now? Carver had an idea. "I'm over by the railing, overlooking old Jezebel Plaza around the corner of the Lounge. Meet me and We'll investigate together." Carver commanded. "10-4, on my way." This was going to work...

The guard arrived at the specified location, but found nobody. As he was about to radio for Charlie, Carver appeared and pushed him over the railing, sending him falling to his death. Carver looked over the railing and smiled. It had reached the point where Carver just wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. Or in this case, drench his blade in blood. Carver grabbed hold of the underside of the railing, and prepared to ambush the incoming guard. This was going easier than he expected.

The guard peered over the side of the railing, seeing the shattered glass through which the other guard fell. Carver vaulted over the rail and leapt onto his shoulders. The guard tossed Carver off, and into the wall. The guard aimed his gun at Carver and prepared to fire. Just then, Carver got an idea. There was a slim chance it would work, but it was worth a shot. After all, anything was worth a shot if he was about to BE shot.

"Stop!" Carver demanded. "Who are you, and why are you here?" The guard asked, summoning others to his location. "My name is Edward Nigma. I'm the Riddler." Carver explained. Please...Let this work..."I have a meeting with Mr. Cobblepot!" "Really? Riddle me a riddle, oh riddling riddle man." The guard insisted. "Um, okay..." Carver agreed. Hesitation. "I'm waiting." The guard said as he pointed the laser sight at Carver's chest. "When are ice and carrots one in the same?" Carver finally asked. He feigned an egotistical tone as he spoke, just as he had once heard The Riddler do. That day that he took over the art museum.

"I dunno. When?" The guard submitted. "In a diamond, you fool. Ice is another term for diamond, while carrots are IN a diamond." Carver explained. "This guy was so easy to fool." Part of him said. "Stop it, you sound exactly like him, now." The other part said.

The guard helped Carver up and pulled out his phone and put it on speaker. "What?!" The Penguin answered, obviously in the middle of eating something. Carver cringed to imagine what that something might have been. "Sir, We have Riddler. Shall we send him in?" The guard asked, eyeing Carver. "Yes, yes. Send him in here. Tell him not to be afraid of the Shark. He don't bite." Penguin ordered. "Shark?" Carver asked, somewhat shakily. "Whatever you say, sir." The guards made a tunnel leading into the Iceberg Lounge. They seemed to ignore the fact that 2 of their friends were missing.

Carver entered the main hall and locked the door behind him. Time to talk to Penguin, find out what's going on.

 _ **CHAPTER 6: PENGUIN'S MEETING**_

On his way to the Lounge, where Penguin was, Carver took notice at the massive tank of water along the walls. What could possibly be inside? As if he needed to ask. He also heard a low pitched growling noise beneath his feet. Mumbling, "Solomon Grundy...Born on a Monday...Christened on Tuesday...Married on Wednesday...Took Ill on Thursday...Worse on Friday...Died on Saturday...Buried on Sunday..." And it repeated itself...How eerie...Carver enjoyed it.

The sensor in the main lounge buzzed, and The Penguin rushed to open the door. "Welcome, Mr.-" Cobblepot paused when he saw Carver standing in Riddler's place. "Who in the bloody hell are you?!" Penguin demanded, reaching for his umbrella. Carver kicked it out of his hands, slammed the door behind him, and grabbed Penguin. "When is The Riddler coming?!" He asked with his knife to Cobblepot's throat. "He's supposed to be here in about 10 minutes! Let me go!" Penguin answered. The vague eyeball behind the glass in his face was shaking. He was frightened. Good.

"Call off your men! Tell them to go to the Harvey Dent Memorial Bank." Carver demanded. "W-why?" "DO IT!" Carver insisted as he cut a part of Penguin's sleeve off. "Men, new orders. Take a hike to the Harvey Dent Memorial Bank." Penguin radioed. "Yes sir, Mr. Cobblepot."

Carver lowered his voice. "Now, when Riddler gets here, all you have to do, is pretend that I was never here. Don't try to warn Riddler. If you do, you're dead. Understand?!"

Penguin, still trying to comprehend the situation, nodded.

A knock at the door.

Carver dropped Cobblepot and ran behind a corner. "Who is it?" Penguin asked, a bit of shock still in his voice. "Dispense with the formalities, you Anti-Aviated Bird and open this door." A voice said on the other side. Yep. Definitely Riddler. Cobblepot looked around to see Carver, but couldn't. Penguin opened the door. "Ah, Mr. Nigma. Come in, come in. Have a seat." Penguin said, pulling out a chair. "I don't have any time to waste, so if there's a point for this little confab, I advise you to get to it. My patience wears thin. In fact, you should be begging me to stay!" Riddler demanded, with his ever-so-egotistical vocal pattern. The sound of it made Carver irritated. For no reason at all.

"And I'm honored. But here's the deal. I need a certain bird dead. And you are the man I need to do it." Penguin said, still looking around, trying to avoid Riddler's suspicion. "Which bird?" Nigma said, obviously bored out of his mind, but not fighting back a smug smirk. The joke didn't escape Cobblepot. "You are clever, aren't you? But I'm talking about ROBIN you DUMBARSE!" "Your statement is redundant, for if I am clever, I am hardly a "Dumbarse.""Riddler said, polishing the edge of his cane. Penguin let out a small glare.

"And why would I help you? You seem perfectly capable of performing this cliché and generally insipid task yourself." Riddler said as he adjusted his glasses. "I can give you money, Nigma. Lots and lots of money." Penguin pleaded. "No deal. I have far more things in mind than money." Riddler concluded. "But with money, you could buy more parts to make your little games that always comically backfire." Penguin reasoned.

Carver listened on. Kill Robin. That's what Penguin wanted Nigma to do. Obviously, Riddler wasn't interested in this job.

"Come now, Cobblepot. If I am a criminal, why would I BUY parts when I can steal them? Your pathetic attempts to appeal to my ingenuity do not serve you well. Good evening, and adue, dear bird." Riddler bid as he stood to leave.

As Riddler left the Iceberg Lounge, Penguin noticed Carver emerging from his cover. "He doesn't know a bloody thing about ya." Penguin said as he watched the bloodied blade dangle from Carver's sheathe. Carver pulled out his wallet and laid a $5 bill on the table in front of Penguin, then he turned to leave. "Buy yourself a new umbrella." He smirked. Cobblepot was not amused. "Kid!" He called after him. Carver turned to face him, expecting a trap.

"You could have the courtesy to tell me your name, at least." Penguin growled. "You can call me, "Carver"." He said as he left.

The guards were gone when Carver left the Iceberg Lounge. He saw a green automobile parked in the shadows beneath the balcony, and he jumped onto the flagpole above it. From the question mark slashed into the rims of the tires, it wasn't any doubt that this was Riddler's car.

Carver slashed the thin wire that kept the trunk shut, and he crawled inside of it. Once inside, he waited, and stared at a small, glowing question mark...What did Nigma intend to do with this? Eventually, he felt the vehicle shake, and the engine roar. Riddler was driving now.

 _ **CHAPTER 7: THE RIDDLER**_

A few minutes felt like an eternity, as the car's rattling was starting to nauseate Carver. After all the money he stole, Riddler couldn't afford a better car?

Eventually the rattling stopped, but not the pounding of Carver's brain. It was a matter of moments until Carver heard the sound of footsteps approaching from the distance. He heard voices.

"Is the device as I ordered?" He heard Riddler's voice say. "Yeah boss, anybody who gets the funny idea to try to sneak in here is gonna be RIDDLED! Haha!...Come on, boss, that was funny! Lighten up!" Carver growled in contempt for that joke. Was every thug in Gotham an idiot? "Now is not the time to "lighten up" you imbecile! Even I must admit, that the clown is not as stupid as I estimated! I've no doubt that he would do just about anything to obtain this ridiculous trinket! He is deranged, after all! Deranged, and capable of killing us all! We must remain vigilant!...Any Questions?" Carver knew that this little "trinket" was precious to Joker, for whatever reason. The question was, what was it? Classified information? Secret plans? Weapons of mass destruction?! He wondered...

"I got a question, boss!" Another voice said with a giggle. "Yes?" Nigma answered. "If you be callin Joker crazy, ain't that like a pot callin a kettle black?" The voice laughed. The room filled with silence. Suddenly, a Gunshot rang out. And a scream. "Would anyone else care to make a grammatically incorrect snide remark?" Riddler's arrogant voice asked. "No? Good! Now get this heap of crimson fluids out of here!" He commanded.

Still, Carver couldn't tell if Riddler was an evil genius, or just an insane genius. Whichever, Carver knew that he was in for a game.

He heard Riddler's boots walking toward the trunk of the car. Carver reached for the handle of his knife, and listened as Riddler stepped closer.

"Shoddy low quality wiring! Can't you just stay intact for more than 3 weeks? Is that so difficult?!" Riddler demanded as he opened the trunk. Carver lashed out at him, tackling Nigma to the ground, and holding the knife to his throat. Riddler reached for his glasses that had been knocked off. When he put them on, Carver's demented eyes were glaring into his. "I'll give you one chance! Where is the object that you stole from The Joker?!" He demanded. "You guys can help me at just about anytime!" Riddler called nervously to his thugs. "Get off of him!" One yelled to Carver at gun point. "I'll kill him!" Carver threatened. "Go ahead! But you still won't have the information you came for." Nigma said with a shaky voice. Damn you smart people, Carver thought. Nigma let a smirk cross his lips.

Suddenly, a gunshot pierced Carver's upper arm, and knocked him off of Riddler. Riddler took the opportunity to grab his bowler hat and run off. Carver reached for the knife that he dropped, but a guard stomped the arm that had been shot. Carver screamed in pain. 3 guards surrounded him, and ushered for him to stand. Carver gripped his arm in agony, and slowly stood up.

"Put your hands on your head!" The guard behind him demanded. He obeyed.

As the guard gripped his wrists, Carver felt a rush of energy. He broke his wrists free, kicked the feet from beneath a guard in front of him, and grabbed his knife from the ground. He took a gunshot to the leg, then stabbed the knife into the next guys throat, then kicked it further in, then kicked another in the face. Carver reclaimed his blade with fresh blood stains, and made sure all 3 were eliminated. 1 dead, 2 unconscious. Carver stabbed another of the immobilised guards. 2 dead, 1 unconscious. That's better.

"OOOH! Isn't someone particularly violent!" Riddler's voice said over the PA system. "Whatever game you have in mind, Riddler, I'll beat!" Carver taunted as he still gripped the arm.

Just then, Carver found his answer as to Riddler's mental state, when he found a question mark on the wall...written in blood...Yep...insane...

Carver's vision was shaky now. Riddler's voice was echoing through his mind. "Name it!" Carver demanded. "I'll give you this one. The object you are searching for is in the next room. Of course, I've prepared a few traps for any unwelcome guests." Riddler boasted. An arrow on the wall illuminated, and Carver limped to follow it.

In the narrow room, Carver saw a small bag with a smiling face painted on it. Bingo. Carver started the walk over to it, and he ran into a transparent wall. "Real mature, Nigma." Carver groaned. "I'm sorry! Did I say it was in that room? Perhaps in another?" Riddler laughed. Carver grabbed his knife and with a burst of rage, slashed the wall repeatedly. No effect.

Carver ran out of that room and entered the on directly left of him, seeing the bag again. Carver ran into another transparent wall, and the door sealed shut. The floor suddenly started to fry Carver, and loose shrapnel flew into the wound on his leg. "I never did care for children! What better way to see one rather than soaked in his own blood?" Riddler's voice taunted. His last 5 words echoed through Carver's mind… "Soaked in his own blood?"

Even with the endless volts going through him, he had an idea.

Carver could see the control panel across the way, and he trudged over to it, still being electrocuted. He broke open the door that covered it, and pushed the OFF button, but Riddler had locked it up. "I'm afraid I can't allow that!" Nigma taunted as he reactivated the electric floor. Carver had anticipated this. Carver rolled up his sleeve, and let the blood drip from his arm, onto the control panel. A zapping noise buzzed in the air, and Carver thought it was just his own burning flesh. But, in time, the blood overloaded the console, and the floor shut down, leaving Carver to sizzle, and the door to open.

"Bravo! Bravo!" Riddler congratulated.

Carver simply couldn't stand it anymore. "Shut up!" He screamed in a rage. Carver ran out of that room, but there were no other rooms. Carver fell to the ground, wounded. Time was running out, but the item still wasn't retrieved. If Riddler didn't kill him, Joker would. Carver's life started to fade before his eyes...a reflection of his beginnings of a criminal...a quiet, dark reflection...wait...reflection...

Carver remembered the rooms. The transparent walls...mirrors...MIRRORS! It was a reflection! Carver looked at the walls behind the arrow, and turned his head. It now pointed the opposite way.

Carver looked around, and noticed a box, hidden in the shadows. He crawled to it. Inside, two grenades. Carver grabbed them, pulled the pins, and tossed them at the wall. They were hollow. Now, they were rubble.

Carver crawled into the room. The bag stood on a podium covered in question marks. Carver rose to his feet, shaking. The pain was overwhelming. He took the bag, and cut the string. What fell out...?

 _ **CHAPTER 8: MEANS TO AN END**_

Joker's toy gun. Of all things. A toy gun. A reflective wall looked back at Carver. Carver lifted his knife and plunged it into the glass, and he heard a startled voice shaking on the other side. The glass began to crack. Carver punched the cracked glass repeatedly until it broke. There, on the other side, stood The Riddler himself.

Carver put away his knife...he wanted Nigma to suffer, not die. He dealt him a punch in the throat, then a kick to the leg with his good leg. After a long beating, he KOd Nigma.

His leg was still hurting. He didn't have a choice...he snatched Riddler's cane, and limped out with it.

Later on, barely conscious, he returned to meet Joker. He opened the door, and tossed the toy gun at Joker. "OOOOH! YOU FOUND IT! MY PRECIOUS LITTLE BANG BANG!" Joker squealed with joy. Carver threw the cane at Joker. "OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! You're the bestest fwend ever!" Joker screamed in childish glee.

Carver limped closer to him. "A toy gun...You almost got me killed...for a toy gun..." Carver griped. "Not just any toy gun! I had this gun when I was just a boy!" Joker explained. Suddenly, a plastic cork struck Carver in the head. He looked to see a man in a black and red suit holding a smoking cork gun, with a smug smile on his face. "Geeez whiz, Gav, you ain't lookin too good! Hehehehehehehehehaha!" The man said, imitating Harley. "You BASTARD!" Carver yelled, shortly before collapsing, while hearing his laughter echo through his head.

Carver struggled to rise. His body was bandaged. "Quinn?" He muttered. "That's my name. Not really. He's crazy...I have to stand in for Har-!" He started. Carver didn't want to hear it right now. "I need to speak to the Clown." The new Harley waited. "What?" Carver said, breaking his stare. "Which clown?" The substitute laughed laughed. "Gee, you're so serious! Ya know, a smile a day-!" "Where is he?!" Carver demanded. Harley 2 took a step back and pulled a radio from her belt. "Dr. White, he's ready for ya!" Harley 2 said with a giggle.

Joker kicked open the door, and shook Carver's hand. "Good boy! How are you recovering? No offense, but you look and smell like a walking pile of puppy crap!...dipped in garlic sauce...and rolled in a sack of fungus! Please forgive the harsh bedside manner by the new Harley. I sent the original out to find me some Doodley candy. She's not getting back in here until she has it! Till then, this sloppy sloth here has to cross dress. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He laughed. Enough, Carver thought. This is over.

"Get out of my way, Ron McDon. This little internship is through." Carver scowled as he pushed Joker aside. "But...But you can't just walk away from me! NOBODY WALKS AWAY FROM ME!" Joker shrieked.

Carver pointed at his posterior. "See this? Kiss it as it walks away." He chuckled and turned away from Joker for the last time...or so he thought.

 _ **CHAPTER 9: A BIRD IN THE BANK**_

Weeks passed, and Gavin Naitals was back to sleeping in Gotham's slummy underpasses. Joker, Quinn, and the name Carver were all just bad memories, and the blade was tainted with the scent of blood he'd spilled under the service of a madman. Oh well, he thought. It's finished. It was time to move on. But could Joker's howling laughter ever be forgotten? Not likely, but Carver didn't know that.

"Time to get back on your feet. Look at you. Pathetic. Such a high body count, but no place to brag about it. How about you become your own leader? Make a name for yourself in this city." He said to nobody in particular.

Gavin was off the radar now. A nobody. In a gargantuan city like Gotham, who cares about a teen on the run? They were everywhere. As such, a walk down the street was no issue. Gavin came to a halt in front of an electronic store's preview TV's. On the news, of course.

"Upon investigation and a testimony from The Riddler, it has been confirmed that Batman was not responsible for the brutalization of Edward Nigma, and had nothing to do with his apprehension. Could this be the mark of a new vigilante?" Vicki Vale asked the viewers. Carver scoffed. Vigilante? No. Couldn't be farther. Criminal. Delinquent. Survivor. That's more like it.

"In other, less interesting news, The Gotham City Police Department has announced that the Harvey Dent Memorial Bank has been rebuilt from the explosion, and will be reopened for business in a week." Vale reported. A grin crossed Carver's face. How fortunate. Can't survive without money, can we?

Over the week, Carver sharpened his blade against the bricks of Gotham's buildings. Tough bricks, sharp knife. Finally, the day arrived. No more hiding in the shadows. No more waiting. He watched those last few minutes, until the last customer left...Then he struck. He barged into the door, stabbed the watchman, and then took the knife to the teller. "The vault. Open it!" Gavin demanded, tighten in his grip on the knife, and delighting in the fear in his eyes. "Okay, just don't hurt me! I'll get you the money! All of it!" The teller pleaded, trying to avoid certain death. "Good idea. Go!" Gavin asserted, a twitch in his eye.

The teller didn't hesitate to do as told. He entered the code, 1939, and let Gavin in, then ran for his life. Gavin admired it. Fear. Perhaps he would work for Scarecrow down the road? Nah.

Gavin heard the vault door shut behind him. The teller had double crossed him. Suddenly, he heard a crash in the skylight, and a teenage voice speaking with the teller. "In there! In the vault!" The Teller's voice said. "Damn." Gavin whispered as the code was entered. And before Gavin knew it, he was looking upon a teenage boy in a dark red costume, a mask on his face, and an R on the left part of his chest. Robin. (Jason Todd).

"I hear this is a rare sight." Gavin greeted, none too pleased. "A bird without his Bat." Robin lunged at Gavin, and tossed him against the wall. "So, that's the way it's gonna be? No hello? No "You don't have to do this"? Just straight to violence? Typical kid." Gavin said, struggling to get to his feet. "How old are you?" Robin demanded, holding Gavin up against the wall. "17." "I'm older than you, dumbass." Robin teased, accidentally loosening his grip on Gavin. "Whatever." Gavin sighed as he stabbed the knife into Robin's hand.

Robin grunted in pain, and tossed Gavin out of the vault, and removed the knife from his hand. Gavin recovered, and kicked the knife away from Robin, then punched him in the stomach, and slammed his head into the cash register. Gavin retrieved the knife from the ground, and held it against Robin's throat, and choking him. Robin remained silent as he glanced groggily into Gavin's cold eyes. "What, no plead for mercy? My you're antisocial. Betcha get it from the Knight." Gavin said, slowly grazing Robin's neck with the knife, just enough to make him bleed.

"Catch." Robin finally said, bringing his arm up to knock the blade away from him, and into the air, then he kicked Gavin's chest and sent him tumbling over backwards, and onto the floor. The knife came down and stuck Itself into his abdomen. Gavin was paralyzed for a moment, feeling the blood leave the body. Robin used this moment to get his bearings, and removed the knife from Gavin, then kicking him in the ribs. "What," Robin started. "No plead for mercy?" Robin stomped his boot onto Gavin's head, and applied pressure. Gavin eventually stopped squirming. Robin removed his boot, and looked upon the dead delinquent. Suddenly, Gavin sprang back to life and stabbed the knife into Robin's leg, and twisted it, and laughed the whole time.

Suddenly, the pair heard a ticking noise. "You were going to blow this place?!" Robin asked. "I thought it was a gadget of yours?" Gavin said, pulling the knife from Robin's leg, and gazing at his belt.

RING!

BOOM!

That's when Gavin's vision went dark.

 _ **CHAPTER 10: HERO WORSHIP**_

A little while later, Gavin woke up covered in ash, and saw the figure of a clown in the distance. Joker. Gavin struggled to rise, and he kicked the body of the bird buried next to him. "Joker." Gavin said, getting his breath back.

Joker turned to face the familiar face that had called his name. "Oh, hey, Stabby Baddy." Joker laughed. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?" He said in a pleasant way. "Yeah. It has." Gavin said, not pleased to see him again. "Hey, could I pick up my last pay check sometime?" Gavin asked, limping to Joker. "As a matter of fact," Joker announced, as he pulled the boy close. "I've got it RIGHT HERE! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Joker laughed hysterically as he pulled out his gun, and shot Gavin in the head 5 times, then let him drop to the floor.

Gavin Naitals was dead.

Joker sifted through the rubble of the building, hoping to find a few hundred dollars left intact. What he found was much better. Robin. "OOOOH!" Joker said as he picked him up and dangled him over his shoulder. "Let's go back to the best, Bird Boy. There's much to discuss!"

Robin awoke 2 days later in a warehouse, with Joker standing over him. "Tell me..." His voice said. "Which one hurts more...forehand, or backhand...A...or B..."

Batman couldn't get there in time.

One thing can be said for both Robin, and for Carver, opposite as they may be...Following an idol can be hazardous to your health.


End file.
